Unforeseen consequences
by groovymumma
Summary: Will has been punishing Mac for a long time. But what happens if someone else takes it as an invitation to do the same thing? Goes AU at the end of Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

_This one has a trigger warning for violence, so please don't read if this may be a problem for you._

_Also, this is my first attempt at a Newsroom fanfic, so please review if you would like me to keep going._

_Enjoy!_

_PS. Clearly, I do not own any of the characters, except for Kyle Sander, whom I will disown as soon as I have finished the story._

"Where's Mac?" Will asked, striding into the hair and make-up room about an hour before the show.

Jim turned away from the State Department official he was briefing while she got her makeup done, and gave Will a long, hard glare.

"What?" said Will defensively. "I thought she usually briefed guests while they were in hair and make-up?

"Yeah, she does."

"Okay, so why isn't she here now?"

Jim excused himself from the official and motioned for Will to step out into the corridor with him .He waited for the door to close behind them before grinding out "She's probably avoiding someone."

"Me?" said Will. "What the hell am I supposed to have done now?"

Jim huffed and glared at him again, before answering very slowly, as though he were talking to a child who didn't quite get it. "No, she's not avoiding you. She's got bigger problems that you at the moment."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Jim looked at him incredulously. "You mean to say you really don't know?"

Will felt his stomach tighten. He never liked it when he couldn't find Mac, but he liked it a whole lot less with Jim implying that something might be wrong.

"Look Jim, all I know is that my staff have been acting increasingly hostile towards me for the last month, Maggie looked at me in the meeting this morning like I'd just killed a puppy in front of her, and now it's less than an hour to air and I can't find Mac."

"Yeah, and what were you saying in the meeting when Maggie looked at you like that?"

"Look, Jim, I'm really not in the mood for twenty questions, I just want to know where my EP is and who the fuck she's supposed to be avoiding?"

"I'm not playing twenty questions. Just think about it for a minute Will. What were you saying when Maggie looked at you like you'd just killed a puppy?"

"I don't know, I was . . . talking about booking someone to comment on the situation in Syria, maybe?"

"Yeah, and not just anyone . . ."

"Kyle Sander, I was talking about booking Kyle Sander, so what?"

Will had gone through college with Kyle, and okay, he was a bit of a jerk, but he was also taught Military Strategy at West Point, so he'd seemed like the obvious replacement for their former Defence analyst who had been unexpectedly posted overseas – about a month ago . . .

"Are you seriously saying that my staff have been treating me like a leper for the last four weeks because I invited a West Point Professor on the show a few times to talk about Syria?"

"Have you seen the way he looks at Mac?"

Will was struck dumb for a moment. _That_ was what this was all about? "She's a beautiful woman Jim. Men look at her." It was one of the things he had both loved and hated about dating Mac – the attention that she constantly got from other men, even when she was oblivious to it.

"Not the way that Kyle does. And he doesn't just look . . ."

"What the _fuck_ do you mean?" Will yelled, starting to get seriously scared. Now that he thought about it, he'd never really seen Kyle and Mac together – Will was usually finished in make-up before the guests even arrived at the studio, and they had usually left again by the time he was off the air.

Jim flushed. "He stands too close to her, Will. He touches her when he doesn't need to. He looks down her blouse. He makes lots of comments about sex, and how he could show her a good time. And that's just the stuff he does in front of the staff."

Will felt physically ill. He knew Kyle was a jerk, but he had no idea he could behave like that. And yet he didn't disbelieve Jim – it wasn't the sort of thing he would lie about. A guy who would humiliate a woman in front of her staff would probably be very careful to hide what he was doing from an overprotective man like Will. "Why didn't anyone tell me? Why didn't _she _tell me? In fact, why didn't she tell him to fuck off of her show and never come back? Mackenzie eats guys like Kyle for breakfast!"

"Yeah," said Jim, "normally she does – unless . . ."

Will was a smart guy. It only took him a few seconds to get there, and when he did, he felt like he'd been kicked in the guts. "She thought," he paused, and swallowed hard, "you all thought, that I'd invited him on the show as some kind of sick punishment, that I wanted him to treat Mac like _that_?" He couldn't believe that they could think so badly of him. Although, given that they'd all been witness to the amount of pain that he'd put Mac through by inviting Brian into their newsroom, maybe they were right to think it, even if he was completely innocent this time around. "And she's not telling him to fuck off because she thinks I want her to put up with it?"

Jim just looked at him sadly and shrugged. Really, there wasn't anything else to say.

"Jesus Christ!" Will exploded. "Where is that bastard? I'm gonna rearrange his fucking face for him, right after I break both his hands so he remembers never to put them on Mac again!"

"I don't know where he is. He should be in hair and makeup by now. I was going to go and look for him as soon as I'd finished with State in there" said Jim, nodding his head towards the room that they'd just left.

"Mac's missing, and so's Kyle?" yelled Will. "Fuck!" He turned and bolted for the newsroom. He had to find her. He had to see with his own two eyes that she was okay, and nowhere near that Kyle fucker. He had to tell her that he was a miserable bastard, and he had hurt her too many times, but never like this, he had never meant for her to put up with something like this. He had to tell her how very, very sorry he was. But mostly she just had to be okay. She just had to be . . .


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much to everyone who followed, faved or reviewed the first chapter! You asked for more overprotective Will, so here goes . . ._

"Well, who have we here? My favourite little lady, Mackenzie McHale. What's put that frown on your pretty face, sweetheart?"

Mac stiffened instinctively at the sound of Kyle's voice, and looked up from the copy she'd been editing on her computer. The patronizing sleaze ball was leaning on the doorway, smiling smugly at her. Who else was he expecting to find in her office, if not her? And how the hell did he manage to make her name sound like an insult?

"Good evening Professor Sander," she said coolly, not letting him see how much he bothered her. "I trust Jim has run you through the questions that Will's going to ask you tonight about the Assad regime's latest attacks on its citizens?"

Kyle strode into her office, not waiting to be invited. "I didn't bother with that annoying puppy. I figured you could tell me everything I needed to know."

She quickly pushed back from her desk and stood up. She didn't want to give him the opportunity to lean over her and look down her blouse again.

"Jim is the Senior Producer and a consummate professional. He's perfectly capable of briefing you. If you'd care to make your way to the makeup room, he's probably waiting there for you now."

Instead of taking her broad hint and heading for the door, Kyle stepped around her desk and stood right next to her, pretending to read the copy on the screen. He was about a head taller than her, a muscular, military man in his early fifties. Objectively speaking, he probably wasn't bad looking, but she could smell his overpowering cologne and the alcohol on his breath, and it nauseated her.

She took a step to the side put some distance between them. "Have you been drinking Kyle?" she asked in her best freezing British accent. "Because there's no way I'm putting you on the air tonight if you're under the influence."

Kyle reached out and put an arm around her waist, pulling her back towards his overwarm body. "You need to relax, pretty lady. Maybe after tonight's show we could go for a drink and I could show you some of what you're missing out on," he said, sliding his hand down from her waist and over the back of her pencil skirt.

And suddenly, just like that, Mac was gloriously, incandescently angry. She'd been putting up with this prick for too many weeks, treating this as just the latest in a long line of punishments from Will, punishments she felt like she deserved. But right now, with Kyle's hand on her arse, she had finally reached her limit. Fuck Kyle, she thought, and Will, and Brian, and all of these fucking _men_ (not Jim, of course. Jim was always a gentleman). Her stomach had been in knots ever since this morning's run down meeting, when Will announced that he'd asked Kyle on the show again, but she was absolutely done with feeling like shit. If this was the latest instalment in Will's twisted little game of "Let's mess with Mac's head," well, she wasn't playing any more. She was going to end it tonight. And she was going to make a start by telling Kyle fucking Sander exactly what he could do with his wandering hands and his disgusting comments. Every time she thought about the fact that _this_ was what Will wanted for her, she almost broke down in tears, but she was through being a victim. She'd worry about what to say to Will once she had sorted out Kyle.

She pulled away from Kyle again, and strode over to the doorway of her office. "Would you care to join me out on the terrace, Professor Sander?" she asked with an insincere smile. "I have something to say to you that I really don't want anyone to overhear."

"With pleasure, my darling" said Kyle, eagerly following her through the door. She realized that the stupid fuck has misinterpreted her words, and actually thought that she wanted to take him up on his offer. Well, he won't be suffering under that delusion for much longer, she told herself grimly, as they crossed the bullpen and headed for the lifts.

xxxxx

Will stormed through the bullpen, looking right and left for Mac, before heading for her office just in case she'd returned. Logically, he knew that she should be okay, she was a big girl and could look after herself, but right now he just really, really wanted to find her and make sure.

Maggie reached out and grabbed Jim's arm as he passed her desk, but he tried to shrug her off and follow Will. "Not now Maggie."

"But Jim, it's important. It's about Mac."

"What about Mac?"

Will overheard their brief exchange and turned back from Mac's empty office. "Where is she Maggie?" he almost pleaded. "Is she okay?"

Maggie looked at him like he was something that had just crawled out of a sewer, before turning her attention back to Jim. "She went off with Kyle a few minutes ago," she continued in a hushed voice. "He cornered her in her office, and I'm pretty sure he'd been drinking, and it looked like he had his hand on her ass again . . ."

"He _what_?" Will exploded, but Maggie ignored him and kept talking to Jim.

"So, like I said, I'm pretty sure he was groping her, and I was just trying to make up some reason to go in and interrupt so she could get away when Mac stalked out of her office and Kyle followed her. She said something about him joining her on the terrace. She looked so pissed Jim, and I really didn't like the way that Kyle was looking at her, like he thought he was going to get really lucky. Do you think I should go after them?"

"We've got it, Maggie," said Will, heading for the lifts at a flat run and muttering "Fuck" under his breath as he went. Mac was being harassed in her own newsroom, and the guy who was doing it was the guy that Will had invited on the show, and the only person protecting Mac was Maggie, for fuck's sake, because no-one on the whole staff had told him what was happening because they all thought he knew and didn't care. No, worse than that, they all thought that he wanted this to happen, that he had engineered the situation to punish her. And Mac was probably thinking the same thing.

Will reached the corridor and pounded on the lift button over and over. "C'mon, C'mon," he muttered. "Just hold on, love. I'm coming."

_Please review and let me know if you want me to keep going._


	3. Chapter 3

_Just a short one tonight, but the chapter really felt like it wanted to end where it does. I promise I will update again soon. Thanks so much to the reviewers who have encouraged me to keep going!_

_PS. Please remember the trigger warning for violence._

Mac held open the door to the terrace and motioned Kyle through in front of her. She absolutely did _not_ want to give him the opportunity to cop another feel. The warm, sultry New York air hit them like a wet blanket, and the sound of traffic rose up from the street below, but she hardly noticed.

Once they were both outside, she swung around to face him, determined to give him a piece of her mind. She crossed her arms in front of her, and tried to stare him down. She had dumped Wade out here, and by God she was going to get rid of this arsehole too.

Before she could get started, he stepped closer to her. "Well, this is a lot more private, Ms McHale, or should I say Mac? Much better for what you've got in mind." He swayed towards her as he spoke. God, how drunk was he?

Revolted, Mac backed away until she came up against the terrace wall. Belatedly, she realised that she had made a tactical error. She had nowhere to go as he leaned into her and drawled "So, sweetheart, what was it that you wanted to _talk_ to me about?"

Mac moved her head to one side to get away from his alcoholic breath. "I wanted to _talk_, you miserable excuse for a human being, about the completely unprofessional way you have been behaving for the last month."

His slimy grin faltered a bit at her words, but he recovered quickly. "C'mon, you know you like it, sweetheart. You've been leading me on the whole time."

"No woman in her right mind would enjoy your disgusting leering and groping, you dirty old man."

His face reddened, and he reached out to grab her shoulders. "You'd better watch what you call me, my dear, and start showing some respect. I've seen the way you prance around in your high heels and your see through shirts and your tight skirts with the slit up the back. Either you're a slut who just likes the attention, or you've been leading me on."

He was bigger and stronger than her, and she had to admit that he was starting to scare her a bit, but she could still handle this. She was Mackenzie McHale, after all. "Take your hands off me right now," she hissed.

"But why?" he drawled. "Everyone's read that stupid email that you sent around. Everyone knows that you're not averse to having more than one guy at a time. Will might not want you any more since you cheated on him, but he keeps asking me back on the show, so he obviously doesn't object to me having a bit of fun with his leavings."

His words were like a knife twisting in Mac's gut, and she gasped and tried to pull away from him, but he pushed her back into the wall and slammed his mouth down on hers.

"Fuck," thought Mac. "This is _not_ happening. Not in my own newsroom." It was the one place she had always felt in control of her life, and now this prick was trying to take that from her. She fought hard to get away from him, but he just tightened his grip and ground his mouth harder against hers. She wrenched her face to the side and opened her mouth to scream, but he took one hand off her shoulder and grabbed her chin, twisting her face towards him and brutally forcing his tongue into her mouth.

Mac could hardly breathe. The kiss, if you could call it that, went on and on, and she knew it was important not to panic, but she couldn't seem to get enough air in through her nose. The feel of his hot tongue in her mouth, the taste of the beer on his breath, made her want to gag. She was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen when she felt his other hand leave her shoulder and start to pull at the buttons on her blouse. Reflexively, she tried to bring her knee up into his groin, but her stupid pencil skirt was too fitted and she could only get her knee half way. Still, he must have felt her movement, because he slid his hand from her chin down to her neck and and squeezed lightly. "Oh, no, you don't, you little whore."

Mac was frankly terrified. His kiss was disgusting, but she hadn't really thought he would take it any further. Now she could see how badly she had miscalculated. He was really starting to squeeze her throat, and his tongue was back in her mouth. He was tearing at her blouse as he forced her back against the wall, and she knew she only had a flimsy lace bra underneath. No one knew they were up here, so no one was going to come to her aid. She had to end this now, before the panic took over completely or he got his disgusting hands on her bare skin.

She lifted her knee again, but this time she drove her leg downwards and slammed her stiletto heel onto the toe of his shoe as hard as she could, making full use of the adrenaline coursing through her body. The tip of the heel went straight through the leather, and she hoped, right into his foot. He let out a howl of pain, and released her to grab at his leg. "You fucking bitch, you're gonna to pay for that" he panted.

"Will," thought Mac desperately. "I know you hate me sometimes, but surely not enough for this?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks so much to the reviewers who have encouraged me to keep going. There seems to be a general consensus that Will should kick some butt, so here goes . . . _

Will burst out of the lift and sprinted through the deserted hallways of the forty-second floor. Jim had opted for the stairs, but Will had made it up there first.

"I'm probably being ridiculous," thought Will as he ran. "If Mac really is chewing Kyle out, she's gonna be so pissed when I burst in half way through." But he didn't slow down.

He rounded the corner of the corridor that led to the outside, and the sight he saw through the glass doors at the far end was worse than anything he had imagined. Kyle had Mac hard up against the terrace wall. The bastard was kissing her brutally, and he had one hand around her throat while the other was tearing at her shirt. Will could see that she was trying desperately to get away. "Mac! No!" he screamed as he ran down the long hallway, but they didn't hear him.

Will felt as though everything was happening in slow motion, even though he was probably running faster than he ever had in his life. He saw Mac bring her foot up and smash her heel into Kyle's shoe. He saw Kyle recoil and let go of her and he yelled "that's it Mac, now run!" but she still couldn't hear him through the heavy glass doors. He couldn't work out why she wasn't moving until he saw that her stiletto heel was stuck in Kyle's shoe, and she was struggling to get her foot out. Her head was bent downwards as she wrestled with her shoe, and so she didn't see Kyle draw back his right hand.

Suddenly, everything sped up again. Shouting "Noooo!" Will crashed through the glass doors, just as Kyle's hand connected with the side of Mackenzie's face. Mackenzie's head snapped sideways with the force of the blow, and she let out a choked scream.

At the sound of MacKenzie's cry, Will was filled a rage like he had never known before, not even when his old man was hitting his mom. He finally understood what was meant by the term _berserker_. Kyle had swung around to see who had interrupted his -Will's mind shied away from the word – his _attack _on Mackenzie, and Will used his left hand to grab Kyle's shirtfront. He drew back his right hand in a fist and drove it into Kyle's stunned face. Will's knuckles exploded with pain as he made contact, but he didn't pull the punch. He kept going, feeling the skin over his own knuckles splitting, feeling the bones in the other man's nose breaking under his fist. If there was one thing he had learnt from his fucked up childhood, it was how to hit a man so he didn't get up again.

Kyle dropped like a stone. Will tried to hold him up by his shirtfront so that he could hit him again, but it was no good. Kyle's shirt slipped through his fingers, and he crashed to the ground, unconscious. Will was just about to follow him down so he could hit him again, when he heard a small whimper from behind him.

"Mac!" The rage drained out of him as he spun around, and he sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her, sitting curled up in a ball with her back to the wall and her legs pulled tightly up to her chest. Her shirt was ripped, the toe of her stocking was torn where she had finally got it out of her shoe, and she was clutching the left side of her face with shaking hands.

He couldn't bear it. His beautiful, brave, _strong_ Mac, reduced to this. And it was all his fault. "Mac," he tried again, crouching down so that he was on a level with her. He tentatively reached out with his bleeding right hand, laying it on her arm. She flinched away from his touch, and Will felt as though someone had torn his heart right out of his chest.

"Mac, it's me, Will," he soothed, although it was a completely stupid thing to say. She knew it was him. She probably thought he had wanted this to happen. Well, maybe not _this_ exactly, but something like it. "Mac, I had no idea. I know I've been a complete asshole to you, but I never intended for anything like this to happen. You have to believe me. I knew he was a jerk, but I had no idea he had a problem with women."

Mac lifted her face from her hands, and Will gasped at the dead look in her eyes. "Not women," she whispered "just me. He said . . ." She took a shaky breath and tried again. "He said . . . that I was your leavings, that you wanted him to have me, that I was a slut and a whore who liked to have more than one guy at once . . ."

Every word was like a fresh blow to Will. He knew Mac had to be in shock, because normally she would never repeat something like that, something that might hurt him too. She always went out of her way to protect his feelings, even when he was being deliberately cruel to her. My god, he did _not_ deserve her love. The shame he felt at her words only served to fuel his fury at Kyle. He wanted to smash him, destroy him completely for daring to hurt this incredible woman.

"Mac, none of those things are true, I swear to God. And when he comes around again, I will break his fingers one by one until he takes every single word back and begs you for forgiveness."

Mac shuddered. "No Billy, no more violence tonight. Please."

Will pushed his rising anger back down and tried to give her a reassuring smile. He had to stop talking about what he needed and focus on her. He had to make sure that she was okay. Nothing else mattered. "Of course not Mac. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you anymore," he crooned. He noticed that she was shivering, despite the warmth of the evening air, and he shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping it tenderly around her shoulders. This time she didn't flinch away.


	5. Chapter 5

_A bit of a longer chapter tonight – hope you like it!_

By the time a wild-eyed Jim burst through the terrace doors a minute later, Will had hunkered down next to Mac, his back against the wall, and pulled her gently into his arms. Mac was still clutching the side of her face, and Will couldn't get a good look at it to see how badly she was hurt. He could feel her shoulders shaking through his jacket, but she wasn't making any sound, which was so unlike Mac that it scared the crap out of him.

"What the hell?" Jim looked from Mac, to the inert form of Kyle lying a few feet away, and then back to Will's bloodied knuckles, as though he couldn't decide who to triage first.

"You'd better check on that motherf-," Will took a deep breath, "that _bastard_ over there, and make sure I haven't killed him. Don't waste time on him though. Mac's hurt."

Jim still looked a bit bewildered, like he hadn't quite pieced together what had happened, but his medic training kicked in and he knelt down next to Kyle, feeling for a pulse in his neck.

"He's alive," he confirmed, rolling the larger man into the recovery position and getting a good look at Kyle's smashed up and bleeding face in the process. "But I'm pretty sure he needs to go to hospital."

"Don't worry about it. I just set off my personal emergency alarm, so Lonny should be here in about five minutes. Mac needs you."

Jim thought for a second, nodded once, and crossed over to where Will and Mac were sitting. He crouched down in front of Mac. "Hey Mac, it's me, Jim. Are you okay? Did Kyle hurt you?"

Mac nodded slightly without removing her hand from her face, and Will felt her shudder. He bent his head down and whispered into her hair "Hey, it's okay, he's never gonna hurt you again, I promise. Jim just needs to have a look at your face to see if he can help, okay?"

Mac nodded again and drew her hand away from her cheek, raising her head a bit so that she was looking directly at Jim. Will bit back an oath when he saw the vicious red palm print on her cheek. The corner of her lip was split and bleeding, her left eye was already starting to swell shut, and her perfect porcelain skin was unnaturally pale. He breathed through his anger, not wanting to scare Mac any more. Man, was he ever gonna kill that bastard, he didn't give a fuck about the consequences.

Will could see the shock in Jim's eyes, but he had to give the kid credit, he was good in a crisis. Jim reached out gently to feel Mac's face with his fingers, before carefully lifting the swollen eyelid to check her eye for damage.

"Well, boss," Jim told Mac , obviously trying for a light tone "I don't think anything's broken, and your eye seems okay too, but you're going to have one hell of a shiner tomorrow."

Mac nodded again. Will knew her well enough to know that she was probably fighting back tears, and didn't want to talk in case it sounded in her voice. God, she was so brave.

"Did he hurt you anywhere else?" Jim asked softly. Mac started to shake her head, before pausing and pointing hesitantly to her neck.

Jim sucked in a quick breath when he saw the finger-marks on Mac's throat , but he didn't say anything. He performed another careful examination and then smiled reassuringly at Mac. "I think your throat is okay too, although it might be a little sore and bruised for a while. I'm going to run down and get the first aid kit and an ice pack for your face. I'll bring Sloan back with me, if that's okay, so that she can take over from Will and he can get ready to go on the air."

Will felt Mac sit up straight in his arms. "The air?" she croaked, before clearing her throat and trying again in a stronger voice. "What time is it?"

Jim glanced at his watch "We're on in about twenty minutes. I can EP for tonight, but we really need to get Will down there soon . . ."

Mac turned in Will's arms so that she was facing him, and inspected his appearance. He could see the dead look fading from her eyes, to be replaced by a tiny glimmer of the fire that he was used to seeing there. "Will, where the hell is your jacket?"

"You're wearing it" he shrugged ruefully. He would have mentioned the damn show sooner if he'd realised that it would pull Mac out of the state of shock that had his gut twisting in knots.

"You put your studio jacket on me half an hour before airtime and then crumpled it by putting your arms around me? she shouted hoarsely. "You better hope someone picked up a spare from the dry cleaners Will McAvoy. And just look at your knuckles. How the fuck are we going to hide those on camera? And what about the C block? We've got a five minute hole on Syria to fill now that our military expert is stone cold unconscious."

Will much preferred a shouty Mac to a silent, shaking Mac, and he was glad to see her reaction turning from fear to anger, but this was taking it a bit far. He was _not _going to apologise for hitting Kyle, not after what he had done. He couldn't even bear to think about what Kyle _might_ have done if Jim hadn't tipped Will off to what was going on. Man, did he owe the kid big time.

"Mac, calm down. I've got at least three spare suits in my office, we can shoot from the shoulders up and no-one will even see my knuckles, and you know I can fill a five minute hole on Syria without even breaking a sweat. It's not as though we're throwing out the whole run down."

"But," Mac started to protest, but Will cut her off.

"I would much, much rather stay and make sure that you're okay," and wasn't that the truth, he didn't know how he was going to open his arms and let Mac out of them, let alone out of his sight, not after what he had seen Kyle doing to her, "but I know you will kill me if I don't do the show tonight, so Lonny is going to come take that sack of shit over there to the hospital, and we're going to head back down to the newsroom where I will change and do the show with Jim as my EP, while Sloan takes you to a different hospital, or to a doctor, or your house, or her house, or wherever you feel safest, and I will come and check on you the minute I'm off air . . ."

"Like hell, McAvoy," hissed Mac. "It's my show too, and I'll be damned if I let a pathetic fuck like him," she shuddered again as she looked over to where Kyle was still lying "take anything from me that I'm not willing to give. Not even my Manolo Blahniks."

Mac's voice wobbled on her last few words, and Will swore as he realised that the heel of her shoe was still sticking out of Kyle's foot. Will silently gave thanks that she always wore those ridiculous things, not just because they made her legs look even more amazing, but also because they had given her a fighting chance to defend herself. Although she should never have had to defend herself from guy like Kyle, especially not in her own newsroom, and it was all Will's fault.

Mac had steadied her voice again, and oblivious to Will's guilt ridden thoughts, was continuing. "Someone can get my shoe out of his foot, Jim will fix me up with an ice pack and some band aids, I will change my shirt, you will get a new jacket, and we will do this show and do it damn well. And if I fall to pieces after that, well then I do, but I will not do it between eight and nine o'clock, do you guys understand that?"

Jim was nodding silently. Will wanted to argue, but he understood on some level that she needed to do this, she needed to get straight back on the horse and prove to herself that she wasn't afraid, or helpless, or a victim. She really was incredible.

Will stood slowly and reached down to help her up. She stumbled a little and he steadied her while Jim retrieved her shoe. She blanched when he handed it back to her and she saw the blood on the heel, but after a second she raised her foot behind her and slipped the shoe back on. Will kept his arm tightly around her shoulders, and to hell with the creases in his jacket. He had failed her spectacularly for the last five years, but he was going to take care of her properly from now on, and make sure that no one hurt her, especially not himself.


	6. Chapter 6

_It's time for some Lonny – and maybe some Don too. Because really, why should Will be the only protective one? Not that Mac needs protecting, but still, it's nice that they want to . . ._

Will was just about to guide Mac back through the terrace doors when Lonny shouldered through them, chest heaving, gun at the ready and eyes scanning from side to side, looking for a threat.

Apparently unable to find one, he holstered his gun and stepped closer to Will and Mac.

"What the _fuck_ McAvoy?"

"You must be getting old, Lonny," said Will sardonically, glancing down at his watch. "It took you seven minutes to get here, eight even."

Lonny took his time to catch his breath before replying, but he still looked mighty pissed. "Look, McAvoy, you know I wasn't booked to pick you up until ten. There were six blocks and forty-two floors between me and you when your alarm went off, and now I get up here and find that you're not even hurt. Well, not much," he amended, glancing at Will's hands.

"Yeah, I'm okay Lonny. I really just need you to take that piece of trash over there to the hospital for me. I've got a show to do."

Lonny strode over to Kyle, bent down to get a good look at his broken face, felt for a pulse just as Jim had done, and then stood up again, looking more pissed than ever.

"No way McAvoy. No fucking way," he said slowly, shaking his head. "I know I bend the rules for you sometimes, but nowhere in my job description does it say that I have to clean up these kinds of messes for you. What the hell did you want to go beating up on him for, anyway?"

Will instantly sobered up and stopped yanking the bigger man's chain. "It was because of Mac, Lonny." He could barely say the words, but he had to make him understand. "He was hurting Mac."

That seemed to take all the wind out of Lonny's sails too. He took a good look at Mac, still sheltering under Will's protective arm. His voice softened. "I'm real sorry to hear that Ms McHale. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm fine, Lonny. Well, I will be fine." She started to give him a reassuring smile, but then winced and raised her hand to press it to the corner of her split lip.

Will swore again. She was in pain, and he really wanted to get her back downstairs so that Jim could do some first aid on her. Why the fuck were they standing around talking on this balcony? Besides, he wanted to get Mac away from Kyle before he came round and made more of his filthy, disgusting comments to her. If that happened, Will would not be responsible for his actions.

"Look Lonny" he said with a sigh, "Mac is hurt, and I really want to get her downstairs to get some treatment, and even though I could care less if that sack of shit over there dies, Jim here says he needs to go the ER, and I have to be on air in about fifteen minutes, so I would really appreciate it if you could take him. I know it's a big ask, but I'm not asking you to cover for me. I could care less if he brings charges against me."

Lonny looked at Will for a long minute before relenting. "Okay, but just know that I'm really doing this for MsMcHale, because she is one classy lady, and she shouldn't have to take crap from any scumbag guy."

Will wasn't entirely sure whether the scumbag guy was supposed to be Kyle or himself, but he wasn't going to argue either way. Lonny was right.

"Thanks Lonny," he said. "I won't forget this." Jim added his quiet thanks too.

"Don't mention it. I'll use the service elevator, and the car's parked in the underground garage, so I don't think anyone will see us. And Ms McHale?"

"Yes, Lonny?"

"I won't rough him up any more than he already is, because I know you wouldn't like that, but I won't be real gentle and considerate with him either."

Mac nodded her thanks to him, seemingly too overcome for words. Will pulled her closer and ushered her gently back into the building.

"C'mon Mac," he encouraged, trying to get a tiny bit of that spark back into her eyes. "We've got a show to do."

Xxxxx

"I'm Will McAvoy and this is Newsnight. Goodnight and thanks for watching us."

Will breathed a sigh of relief as the red light on the camera facing him winked out. Honestly, he had no idea how they had got through the broadcast. He'd been on autopilot the whole time, reading the script exactly as it was written on the teleprompter, all his thoughts focused on Mac and how she was doing. She'd been pretty quiet, talking a lot less than she usually did, but saying something in his ear just often enough to keep him from yanking out his earpiece and rushing into the control room to check on her, cameras be damned.

He had no recollection at all of what he had said about Syria in the C block. Someone, probably Maggie or Jim, had hastily pulled together a two minute package of footage and voiceover, and he'd vamped as best he could for the remaining three minutes. Whatever he'd said couldn't have been too bad though, as Mac had given him a soft "thanks, Billy" when they'd cut to commercial break.

Mac was talking to him again now. "Good show, Billy."

Will heard the slight tremble in her voice – he knew her too well to miss it. He was up out of his chair like a shot, and tearing into the control room. She had promised not to fall apart between eight and nine, but it was 9.01 now and if she was going to lose it, he wanted to make sure that she didn't have to do it in front of their staff.

Mac turned as he entered. She had changed into a new blouse, and was holding an ice pack to the side of her face. She was paler than ever, and he could see the sheen of unshed tears in her good eye. She looked so beautiful, and so vulnerable in that moment that it was all Will could do not to take her in his arms.

Instead, for her sake, he tried to play it cool.

"Hey Mac, you did a great job tonight. Now let's get you home so you can rest up."

Don stepped quickly between Mac and Will and squared up to the bigger man.

"Look Will, she doesn't have to go anywhere with you. Sloan is waiting in Mac's office to take her wherever she needs to be. Mac doesn't need your _help_."

Don practically spat the last word, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Will could understand his anger. There hadn't really been time before the broadcast to tell the staff what had happened, and Will wasn't sure how much Mac wanted them to know anyway. Mac had trained them well, and they were all professional enough not to ask questions during the show. They were deeply loyal to Mac though, and seeing her coming downstairs hurt and with a torn blouse had to have upset them. What Don didn't know was that he couldn't possibly be angrier at Will than Will was at himself.

Still, he owed it to Mac not to start a punch up with Don in her control room. He tried again for a light tone. "Calm down Don, I think you might need to lay off those protein bars for a while. Look, I didn't know Sloan was waiting for Mac."

Will turned to Mac, who had put her ice pack down, ready to intervene between the two men.

"Would you like Sloan to take you home?"

She hesitated for a second before replying. Will didn't know if she was thinking about refusing all help, the way she usually did, or whether she would actually prefer him to take her home. Before he could offer again, she answered Don.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Okay, let's go find Sloan then," said Will, disappointed.

Will put his hand on the small of Mac's back to usher her out of the room, but Don wasn't done yet.

"Where's Kyle?"

"In hospital," Will answered shortly.

Don glanced down at Will's other hand, the one that wasn't on Mac's back. Jim had hurriedly taped up the knuckles just before they went to air, but blood was starting to seep through the bandages.

"How badly is he injured?"

"Last time I saw him, he was out cold with a broken nose."

Don nodded. "Okay, good. But that doesn't make everything else okay."

"I know," said Will softly. "Believe me, I know."

_Thank you so much for all your reviews. They really make my day and encourage me to keep writing. This will be my last chapter until after Christmas, so I wish everyone a safe and happy holiday season. See you next year!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Oh boy, it's hard to get back into the groove after two weeks away, but I figure the best way to do it is to just keep writing! Let me know what you think. _

Sloan was waiting for them in Mac's office. She immediately pulled Mac into a gentle hug.

"How you doing Kenz? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, although I've got a bitch of a headache," came Mac's muffled reply from her shoulder.

Sloan pulled back from the hug and looked closely at Mac's face. "Would you like to stay at my place tonight? I don't think you should be alone."

For a second it looked as though Mac was going to argue, but then she shrugged.

"Yeah, that would be good. Thanks Sloan. Just let me go to the bathroom and take the Percocet that Jim found for me and then I'm good to go."

As the bathroom door closed behind Mackenzie, Will turned to Sloan.

Before he could speak, she started pounding on his chest with her fists and yelling at him.

"How could you Will? How could you? I know you can be a real bastard sometimes, but this is _Mac. _How could you bring a guy like Kyle in to do something like that to her?"

Will's first instinct was to yell back, because that was what he always did when he was under attack, but he knew that she was just looking out for Mac. Instead, he caught hold of Sloan's wrists and gently eased her away from him. "Look Sloan, I understand that you're pissed, because my behaviour to Mac has been absolutely awful at times, and I know the staff have been witness to that, but you have to believe me that this time I had no idea. I would never have let Kyle within five miles of Mackenzie if I'd known what he was like."

Sloan raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Seriously Sloan. You can ask Jim if you don't believe me."

Sloan started at him for another second, but she must have read the truth in his eyes, because she finally relented and lowered her arms.

"Okay, I believe you, I guess. But no way is Mac going home with you tonight."

"I know, Sloan. I know I've forfeited the right to take care of her, but please just let me drive you two home."

"I don't know, Will . . ."

"Please Sloan. Just do this one thing for me? If Mac doesn't like it I won't, but otherwise I would really just like to see the two of you safe inside your front door. I _need _to know that she's safe, just for tonight. Please."

"Okay. But only if Mac agrees."

Xxxxx

Fortunately for Will's sanity, Mac didn't object to his plan. Will called Lonny, who was just finishing up at the hospital, and arranged for him to pick them all up from the underground car park. The last thing that they needed was someone taking pictures of Mac's face, or Will's hands for that matter.

Will held the door to the backseat open for Sloan and Mac, and then shuffled in after them, so that Mac was sitting between him and Sloan. Sloan gave him a look, but didn't comment. Mac stared straight ahead, looking a bit out of it. Will didn't know whether she was slipping back into shock, or whether it was the Percocet kicking in. He desperately wanted to put his arm around her again, but instead he waited until Lonny was driving and then leaned forward to talk to him.

"How did you go at the hospital?" he asked quietly.

"Okay. I think. The scumbag told the triage nurse that he'd been in a fight, but that he didn't remember who'd hit him, so I don't think he's keen to press charges. The nurse gave me a pretty dirty look, like she was thinking about calling the cops, but I guess the fact that my knuckles don't look like yours got me off. I waited around with him until he got called through, and then I cleared out. It's not the best situation to be in when you're a big, black guy, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. Well, I mean I don't know, but I can imagine. I really owe you one."

"Yeah, you do McAvoy. Even though I really did it for Mac."

"Thanks Lonny," said Mac quietly.

"Anytime. Speaking of hospitals, shouldn't we be taking you to one? Have you thought about whether _you _want to press charges?"

Will felt Mac stiffen next to him. _Shit._ Why hadn't he thought of that? The fucker deserved to go to prison after what he'd done to Mac.

"Do you want to, Mac?" asked Will gently. "We could get you checked out properly by a doctor, and they could, you know, gather any evidence at the same time." Will could barely finish the sentence. He'd had plenty of experience taking his mom to the emergency room after a beating, and he couldn't bear the thought of Mac sitting there, small and pale in a hospital gown under the bright lights, the doctors indifferent, pitying or scornful as they had been with his mom.

Mac was silent for a long moment. "I don't know, Billy. I want to stop him from doing what he did to me to anyone else, but . . ." her voice broke a little "I can't bear the thought of all of _this_ being dragged through the courts and the newspapers."

Will new exactly what _this_ was. Mac's infidelity, Will's punishments, all of their public arguments. Kyle would hire a top defence attorney who would ensure that all of it came out in court.

"You mustn't consider me at all," he said, because he knew her well enough to know that she would put his wellbeing above her own, "I'll support you one hundred per cent whatever you decide to do. But if you don't want to report him to the police, there is another way to take him down."

"Will!" Sloan interjected, shocked.

"Not that, Sloan! I'm not going to kill the guy, much as I might like to. I just meant that if he would attack Mac in such a brazen way, then I'm pretty sure that he must have mistreated some of his female students too. A few phone calls here and there, a few words dropped in the right ears should be enough to kick off an investigation that would end him professionally and let everyone know that he isn't safe around women. He might even go to prison."

Mac touched her injured face tentatively. "That sounds good, Will, especially if it would protect the female cadets at West Point. But if feels like the cowardly way out," she said sadly.

"Are you kidding me?" said Will. "You were so brave tonight. I'm guessing you hauled his sorry ass up to the terrace to call him on his behaviour, and then when he attacked you, you fought back with everything you had, and then produced a show almost straight afterwards. Mac, you are the most courageous woman that I know," he said, realising as the words came out of his mouth just how true that was. God knows she was the only one who could always go toe to toe with him, no matter how loud he yelled.

"Thanks Billy. What do you think, Sloan. Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Will couldn't believe that Mac was actually seeking advice from both him and Sloan. She _never_ did that. He was starting to see how much the attack had shaken her confidence in her own judgement.

"I agree with everything that Will said, Mac. You need to do whatever is best for you, and we'll back you all the way."

Mac sighed. "Right now, I just really want to go home, or at least to your home Sloan, and go to bed. My head hurts, I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep."

Mac got her wish. By the time they pulled up in front of Sloan's brownstone, the meds had really kicked in and Mac was fast asleep on Will's shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around her slight frame.


	8. Chapter 8

_I know that some reviewers thought Mac should have gone home with Will, so I hope this chapter makes up for it a bit. Because really, you can never have too much WillMac, especially with a bit of Sloan thrown in._

_Please leave me a review if you like it. I'm finding motivation is a bit harder in the holidays, and I really want to finish this story!_

Lonny parked the car in front of Sloan's place, asked Sloan for her key, and headed up the steps to unlock the front door for them.

Sloan, still seated in the back of the car, reached out to Mac, intending to shake her awake.

Will shook his head and said softly "Don't wake her Sloan, she really needs the rest. She's been running on adrenaline all night."

"Well, then, how do you propose we get her up to my apartment? I'm on the third floor, you know."

"It's okay, I'll carry her."

"But Will, what about your knee?"

"Screw my knee!" said Will explosively. He remembered that he was trying not to wake Mac, and continued more quietly. "Seriously Sloan, I've got this."

Sloan didn't look convinced. "What about Lonny, I'm sure he could manage easily?"

"I'm sure he could, but he doesn't love her the way I do."

Sloan stared at him, mouth agape. "_What_ did you just say?"

"That I love her? C'mon, Sloan, it's not like you didn't know that. You've nagged me about it often enough."

"Yeah, I know, but I never expected to hear you just admit it like that."

Will gave her a rueful look, and shrugged as best he could with Mackenzie still nestled into his side. What else could he say? The night's events had acted like a can opener on his heart, and all of his feelings for Mac, feelings that he had tried for so long to hide from the staff, from Mackenzie, and even from himself, were just pouring out of him.

Sloan seemed to understand, because she stopped arguing and hopped out of the car, coming round to Will's side to open the door.

Will laid Mac gently back against the car seat, carefully slid his arm out from behind her head, and got out. He leaned back in to the car, pulled Mac along the seat towards him, and then bent and lifted her tenderly into his arms. She stirred slightly and then relaxed back into sleep with a contented sigh. For a moment he just relished the feel of her, warm and soft, cradled against his chest, but the feeling fled as he realized that he could feel every one of her ribs through her blouse.

"Jesus Christ!" he exploded.

"What is it?" asked Sloan, releasing the car door and stepping closer, arms out ready to help. "Is she too heavy for you?"

"No, she's too fucking light!" Mackenzie had always been slender, but never like this. "What the hell is going on?"

Sloan frowned. "Well, I guess she hasn't been eating too well since, you know . . ."

"Since I started inviting Kyle fucking Brenner on the show, is that it?"

"Well, yeah, I think so . . ." It was Sloan's turn to shrug now. She could see how much Will was hurting; there was no need to rub it in.

Will took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm his anger at Kyle, at himself, at the staff for not telling him what was going on. "Okay, okay. Well, that stops tonight. I'll get you girls settled, then Lonny and I will head out and pick up Mac's favorite foods, and you make sure she eats something the minute she wakes up, okay?"

"Okay, Will. Calm down. You've still got three flights of stairs to climb if you want to be a hero."

Will didn't dignify Sloan's jibe with a response. Instead, he settled Mac more comfortably in his arms and headed for the stairs.

By the time they reached Sloan's apartment, his knee _was_ screaming at him, but no way was he going to admit that to Sloan.

Lonny had elected to stay downstairs with the car, so Sloan unlocked her door, flipped on the lights and motioned Will to follow her inside.

If he'd thought much about it, he would have expected Sloan to have a sleek, modern apartment, all tiles and chrome and primary colours. Instead her place had cream walls, soft lighting and was filled with an eclectic mix of antique furniture, fluffy rugs and quilted throws. It was warm and comforting somehow. For the first time, Will was glad that she had offered to bring Mac here.

"Where should I put her?" he asked.

"The bedroom's this way."

Will followed Sloan into her surprisingly messy bedroom. He waited for her to remove a pile of clothes from the king size bed and turn back the covers, before gratefully depositing his precious burden, making sure that the injured side of her face wasn't touching the pillow. He would prefer to hold her all night, but his knee was having none of it. Damn, he'd be lucky if he could walk at all tomorrow.

Will carefully removed Mac's shoes and held one up to Sloan. "Did you know that she used one of these to defend herself?"

Sloan's eyes widened. "I hope she was aiming for his groin!"

"Not quite, but it was still pretty effective. I'm so glad she wears these ridiculous things."

"Yeah, me too."

Will looked down at the woman on the bed, wondering what else he could do to make her more comfortable. Her pencil skirt looked a bit too fitted for sleep wear.

"Do you want me to help you undress her?"

Sloan looked at him sardonically. "No thanks, Will, I'm sure I can manage."

Another thought struck Will. It was a small apartment; it didn't look as though there was another bedroom. "Where are you going to sleep tonight, Sloan? You won't be very comfortable on the couch."

"I'll sleep right here, next to Mac."

Will just gaped at her.

"C'mon, it's not like we haven't done it before when we've had one too many drinks on a girls' night out and shared a taxi back here."

"You and Mac have shared a bed before?"

Will knew it was absolutely not the right time to be having inappropriate thoughts, but he was only a man, and he could not get past the image of the two most stunning women of his acquaintance, hell, probably of anyone's acquaintance, sharing a bed, maybe a bit drunk, maybe even snuggled close to each other. How had he not known about this before? It had to be one of the hottest things he had ever heard.

Sloan gave him a look. "Get your mind out of the gutter, McAvoy. You know I don't mean it like _that_. Besides, if she has a nightmare or gets scared, I'll be right here next to her."

Will sobered instantly. It should be _him_ lying beside Mac in the night, taking care of her, but she'd screwed up once and he'd been screwing up ever since. He knew now, with crystal clarity, that he didn't want to fuck around anymore, as Charlie would say. He wanted to be with Mac, would do anything to be with Mac again. He was all in. He didn't know if he could fix this, fix them. Hell, he didn't know if Mac would want anything to do with him after what had happened with Kyle tonight, but he had to try. Starting tomorrow, he would show her that he could change, could forgive, could be the man that she deserved.

As for tomorrow . . .

"She's going to try to come in to work in the morning, isn't she?" he asked Sloan.

Sloan nodded. "You know Mac. She's an unstoppable force of nature when it comes to News Night. It would be better if she took the rest of the week off . . ."

"But she won't, will she? Do you think you could at least keep her here until I've had time to brief the staff at the morning meeting?"

"I can try. I want to convince her to go to a doctor or a clinic in the morning anyway to get checked out."

"That's a good idea, Sloan." Will paused, not quite sure how to put his feelings into words. "Thanks for looking out for her little sis, for being her friend." He was talking about a lot more than tonight. He suspected that Sloan often comforted Mac when he was being a bigger bastard than usual. He hoped she would understand what he was trying to say.

"You don't have to thank me Will. I love her."

"I do too." It felt so good to finally admit it to someone that he said it again. "I really do love her, Sloan."

He looked down at Mac, fast asleep on the bed, lying on her side with her knees tucked up, just the way he remembered from when they were together, and he felt a wave of warmth wash over him. God, she was so beautiful, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He bent over and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Reality flooded back like a bucket of cold water tipped over his head. Her eye was swollen almost shut now and there was a trickle of blood coming from the cut on her lip.

"This isn't like the other times, is it Sloan? Do you think she's hurt too bad this time? Do you think she'll ever want to be with me again after this?"

Sloan had seated herself on the edge of the bed, next to Mac, but now she looked up at him sadly. "I don't know Will. I just don't know."


	9. Chapter 9

_Okay, so this chapter is shortish and kind of intense. Please let me know what you think of it. I don't want to overdo the angst, but the story seems to require a certain amount of it._

Will had fully intended to spend the rest of the week looking out for Mac, taking care of her, showing her that he was through being an asshole. Instead, by Thursday night, he was sitting on his balcony chain smoking, drinking scotch and trying to work out where it had all gone wrong. Unfortunately, he reflected bitterly, the best laid schemes of mice and men "Gang aft agley/ An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain," especially if you were William McAvoy and your plans had something to do with one Mackenzie McHale. Thanks for nothing, Robert Burns.

He'd been lucky to get through the Tuesday morning meeting with a whole skin, but then he'd been expecting that. At the end of the meeting he gave the staff a bare bones explanation of what had passed between Mac and Kyle, but he stopped just short of assuring them that he had known nothing at all about Kyle's behaviour. They probably wouldn't believe him anyway, and besides, he wasn't in the habit of explaining himself to anyone. He might make an exception for Habib, or maybe Mac, but that was about it. Instead, he told the staff that if a similar situation arose in the future and they didn't feel they could come to him, that they should report it to Charlie or to Human Resources. He also told them that Mac would probably be in soon, but that they should give her some space for a few days and bring their problems to Jim or himself instead. Both suggestions were met with silent glares, so he just shrugged and headed for his office. So, he was the bad guy again. Whatever. He was used to it. He could handle it.

He figured Mac and Sloan must have come in a few minutes later, because the staff suddenly rushed over to the elevators. He wanted to join them to see how Mac was, but he forced himself to stay in his office. He knew that Mac wouldn't appreciate all the attention, and he didn't want to add to it.

When all the staff had gone back to their desks, he gave it a few minutes, and then headed for Mac's office, trying to look casual rather than desperate. She was sitting at her desk, scanning the morning papers, and she hadn't heard him, so he paused in the doorway to get a good look at her.

She looked okay. That was his first thought. Her hair was loose, hanging down, and he couldn't see her face clearly, but she looked much as she always did, speed reading and highlighting the morning papers at a pace that would have made anyone else dizzy. She was wearing pants rather than her usual pencil skirt, and her blouse seemed to be buttoned up a bit higher than normal, but he could understand that after what Kyle had said and done to her. He leaned further in to the room to get a glance at her feet under her desk, and smiled when he saw that she was wearing heels. She might only have them on for self-defence purposes, but he was still glad to see them. He would know that the world was ending the day that Mackenzie McHale started wearing flats.

He walked up to her desk and cleared his throat to gain her attention. She looked up from her papers and gave him a tentative smile.

"Hey, Will."

Will felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach, and it was all he could do not to gasp out loud. Last night her eye had been swollen, but now the skin around it was a rich, vivid purple. How had he forgotten this? Her eye was purple now, but over the next week it would fade to green, then yellow, and then it would be almost time for the next beating. _Fuck_, where had that thought come from? Mackenzie was not his Mom, she _wasn't_.

Something of his thoughts must have shown in his face, because Mac was looking at him strangely. "Will?"

With an effort, he pulled himself together. "How are you Mac? Are you okay?" he asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

"I'm fine, Will. Or at least I would be if everyone would stop asking me," she said with a touch of annoyance.

"I know Mac, I won't pester you. I'm just worried about you, you know?"

"I know. Although you should really be worrying about yourself. Your hands are a mess and you're walking like an eighty year old man."

"Don't worry about my hands. Lonny took me to get them cleaned up after we'd dropped the food off at Sloan's place. And as for my knee, well there was a certain sleeping beauty that needed to be carried up three flights of stairs last night."

Mac's tone softened. "I know Billy, and I really appreciate everything that you did. I just don't want everyone treating me like I'm sick, or a victim."

"I know, Mac. I just want you to know that I'm here if you need anything."

"I know Billy."

So the first meeting hadn't gone too badly, but it was all downhill from there. Will stuck to his plan of bringing Mac meals to make sure that she was eating, but as her eye got more and more technicolour he took to dropping the food off on her desk when he knew that she was out of her office. By Wednesday he was looking at his shoes when she talked to him, and by Thursday he was making excuses to cut run down meetings short so that he wouldn't have to be in the same room with her. When he did glance at her he could see the hurt look on her face, and the staff were about ready to kill him, but he knew that if he tried to explain he would only make it worse. He didn't even really understand himself, except that it had something to do Mac reminding him of his Mom after his old man had gone to town on her. Damn, he really needed to see Habib. Maybe he would make an appointment in the morning.

Will reached for another cigarette and swore when he realized that he had smoked the whole packet. Disgusted, he drained the whisky in his tumbler and rubbed his bleary eyes. Time for bed. Maybe Mac's face would be a bit better tomorrow, and he would be able to apologize and explain what was going on in his head.

The scotch helped him to fall into a restless sleep which lasted for a couple of hours, until the nightmare started.

_Mac was lying on her back on the terrace. Kyle was on top of her. He was hitting her, strangling her, pulling at her clothes. She was struggling as hard as she could, crying out for Will, but he was frozen somehow, and he couldn't get to her, couldn't even make her name come out in anything more than a whisper. Kyle was yanking up Mac's skirt and Will was fighting so hard to get to them, but his limbs just wouldn't cooperate. Mac's cries got louder and louder and then. . ._

_It wasn't Kyle on top of Mac anymore, it was Will. He was straddling her and looking down into her bloodied face. It was his fist punching her now, and she was sobbing, her beautiful brown eyes flooded with tears. She was begging him to stop, but he couldn't. He just kept pulling back his arm and pounding her with his fist, over and over._

Will awoke suddenly, heart racing, and made a dive for the bathroom. He only just reached the toilet in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl. When he was done retching whisky and bile, he slumped down onto the cold tiles, shaking and sweating. He couldn't get the image of Mac's pleading eyes, the _feel_ of her face breaking under his fist, out of his mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What if he was just like his old man, after all?


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you so much to all the beautiful reviewers – especially the guest reviewers who I can't write back to individually. You have really inspired me to keep going and now the end is almost in sight!_

_Please be advised, this chapter has a discussion of domestic violence. I am no expert in this area, so please don't rely on my information. There are plenty of good sites on the internet if you need help deciding whether or not a relationship is abusive._

Will didn't get much sleep at all after the nightmare, only dropping off again as the sun was rising over the New York skyline. He rushed through his shower but stopped to pick up breakfast for Mac, with the result that he only just made it in time for the ten o'clock meeting. He strolled into the room, feigning bravado, and placed the cappuccino and muffin on the table in Mac's usual spot. No one said a word. The staff must think he was completely cracked, buying food for Mac at every opportunity and then completely avoiding her. Well, hecouldn't argue with that. He _was_ feeling a bit crazy this last week.

Mac breezed in two minutes later. She didn't glance at Will, but pulled up short when she saw the food waiting for her. She seemed to freeze for a minute, staring down at the muffin, but then she took a deep breath and put on that bright, artificial smile that she used when she didn't want anyone to see she was hurting. "So," she said, overdoing the cheer, "it's shaping up to be a slow news day so far, but hopefully that will all change before tonight. In the meantime, who wants to pitch first?"

No one seemed in a hurry to break the awkward silence, and Mac's gaze travelled around the table, looking for a volunteer.

"C'mon," thought Will to himself. "You can do this. You don't have to stare at her, just give her a quick smile and then look back down at your lap. It's not that hard. You usually can't get enough of looking at her."

Will raised his eyes and met Mac's gaze. She was too pale, like she was bracing for more hurt, but her eye _was_ looking a little better. The skin around it was more yellow than green today, and not really swollen at all. It didn't help though. As soon as Will looked right at her, he was plunged back into his nightmare. He was sweating, his heart was racing, and he could _feel _his fists pummelling into her face. Worst of all, though, he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He figured he had about five seconds to get out of the meeting before he threw up all over the table.

He was out of his chair like a shot and diving for the door before he'd even finished the thought. He ran for his office and just made it to the en suite in time to be comprehensively sick again. Now he had a new image to torture himself with: Mac standing at the head of the table, clutching her clipboard to her chest, watching him run from her, a look of complete devastation on her face.

xxxxx

He snuck out of his office a few minutes later. Mercifully the staff were still in the meeting, although god only knew what they were saying after he'd bolted from the room like that. If he knew Mac, they were probably carrying on as though nothing had happened. He'd given her plenty of practice at hiding her feelings at work, that was for sure.

Habib, he had to see Habib before he fucked this up once and for all. He headed for the elevators, texting Mac as he went.

_Sorry about that. Personal emergency. Promise I will be back in time for the run down at six._

He had to stop himself from writing _Love you _on the end of the message. After the scene he'd just made, she would probably stomp on her phone again if he did that.

He caught a cab across town, but Dr Habib junior couldn't squeeze him in until five thirty that evening, so he paced around the city in the heat, hardly noticing where he was going. Lonny was going to kill him, but he figured that if he didn't know where he was going himself, then it was hardly likely that some random stalker would be able to find him either. He tried to call Mac a couple of times to apologise, but it just went straight to voicemail, and he was _not _going to leave Mac any more personal messages for someone to hack. He texted her instead.

_Really sorry, won't be back until 7.30 now. If you leave my script on my desk and have hair and makeup waiting in my office, I promise I'll be ready to go on at eight._

She didn't reply. He didn't blame her.

By the time Habib finally ushered him into his office, Will was hot, sweaty, and not at all in control of his emotions.

Habib settled Will in a chair, poured a glass of cold water and placed it on the table by Will's hand, then took his own seat.

"Okay, Will, you seem pretty agitated, and your hand looks like you've been in a fight. Can you tell me what's going on?"

"It's Mackenzie. I've hurt her too bad this time, so bad that I don't think I can fix it. And every time I see her black eye. . ."

"Hold on Will, just back up there a second. Are you saying that you hit Mackenzie?"

"_No!" _Will exploded, coming half out of his chair before sinking back down. "How could you even think that? You know I would never, could never. . ."

"I know, Will, I do know that. But that was what you seemed to be saying. How about you have a drink of water, take a few deep breaths, and tell me about it from the beginning?"

So Will did. He told him about Kyle, and how good it felt to hit him, and how he still wanted to kill him for what he'd done to Mackenzie. He told him about his confession to Sloan, and his vow to look after Mackenzie, and about having to avoid her face, and about the nightmare. _Oh God_, the nightmare.

When he'd finished recounting how he had run out of the meeting that morning to throw up in the bathroom, he sat back and looked at the shrink expectantly.

Habib waited for a minute, which always really pissed Will off, before speaking.

"Will, do you know what the signs of an abusive relationship are?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Okay, calm down, I know you had a front row seat to one growing up. But what I mean is, do you know how to tell the difference between a relationship where two people argue, and maybe even hurt each other, and an abusive relationship? Because it sounds to me as though the nightmare, and all the other stuff, is really about you asking yourself if you are behaving to Mackenzie as your father behaved to your mother."

"Well yeah, I had kind of worked that out for myself."

"But you don't know the answer to your question, do you?"

Will just shook his head. He was terrified of what Habib was going to say next.

"Look, Will, the hallmark of an abusive relationship is that one person has all the power, and they use any means possible to bend the other person to their will. Do you feel like you have power and control over Mackenzie?"

Will just snorted. "Are you serious? It would be like trying to control a hurricane. Mac made it clear the very first night that she came back that she owned me between eight and nine."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"It made me pretty damn pissed, I can tell you, because she did it in front of everyone, and because I didn't want her back in my life then. But . . . "

"But?"

"A part of me really liked it. I've always admired her guts. And I also liked that she wanted to own me. No one else has ever wanted me like that." Will thought for a minute. "But then I did alter her contract so that I could fire her every week if I wanted to. Isn't that abusive?"

"It could be. Did you hold over her head, use it as a threat to get her to give in to your wishes?"

"Man, you have obviously never been in a run-down meeting with Mackenzie. She takes note of your objections, and then does whatever the damn hell she pleases anyway."

"So you didn't use the contract as a means to control her behaviour?"

"No, I really just did it so that I could get rid of her at the end of that first week. It hurt too damn much having her around again. I never mentioned it again after that. What about the ring though?"

"I've told you before that I don't think some of your behaviour to Mackenzie has been normal. You've certainly done things at times that have deliberately hurt her. But I don't think that it qualifies as abusive, because Mackenzie's independence and her courage are the things that you most love about her, and you wouldn't want to change them."

Will let out a breath that he didn't realise he had been holding. "But what if I have changed them? What if I've just hurt her too badly this time?"

"Will, there can be unintended consequences when you treat someone the way that you have been treating Mackenzie, and I'm glad that you've realised that and are feeling bad about it. But you did _not_ hit Mackenzie. Kyle did."

"I know that. But I shouldn't have created an environment where people thought it was okay for her to get hurt."

"Will, I don't think anyone could have predicted what happened with Kyle. I mean really, how likely was it that he would attack Mackenzie like that, in her own workplace, only half an hour before the show was due to start?"

"I know, but still . . . "

"You seem to have shifted from blaming Mac for everything to blaming yourself for everything. The truth is almost always somewhere in the middle. You have been cruel to her at times, but she did hurt you very deeply. Infidelity is not a small thing."

And there it was. Usually, if anyone so much as mentioned Mackenzie cheating on him, he was overwhelmed with anger and pain. Somehow, the idea seemed to have lost its sting. He had pictured Mac and Brian together so many times, but now that picture had been replaced by one of Mac struggling with Kyle, trying desperately to get free.

"Can I ask you one more question, Will?"

"Yeah, okay," said Will cautiously.

"What do you think would have happened if you had forgiven Mac and taken her back all those years ago? Do you think you would be happily married now, maybe with a kid or two?"

Will sighed. "I don't think so. Even if I could have gotten past my anger, I don't think I would ever really have trusted her. It would have eaten me up from the inside."

"And now?"

"Now I trust her absolutely. She sat by my hospital bed the whole time I was unconscious, even if it was just to hit me with a magazine when I woke up. No one else cares about me enough to do that. She's practically been celibate the whole time she's been back at News Night, apart from that Wade wanker. It's as though she's being faithful to me, even though we're not together anymore."

"Will, I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. Are you saying that you are ready to risk your heart again in a relationship with Mackenzie?"

"Yeah, I am, I absolutely am. I'm not angry at her any more. I don't want to hurt her any more. I just want us to be together. I want to love her the way that she deserves to be loved."

"That's wonderful to hear Will. But you do have one last hurdle to overcome. You need to get hold of Mackenzie and explain your behaviour of the last few days. Do it on the phone if you really can't look at her yet, but do it soon. She must be really confused and hurt by the mixed messages you have been sending out."

"I will, Doc, I'll do it straight away." Will glanced down at his watch. "Shit, I've got a show to do. Gotta run!"

Dr Habib shook his head as the door slammed behind Will, but he couldn't help but smile a little. It might have taken two filing cabinet's worth of notes about Mackenzie, but it looked as though Will was finally going to seize his chance at happiness. He only hoped he wasn't too late.


End file.
